


You Wormed Your Way into My Heart

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Flobberworms, Gryffindor Louis, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff Harry, M/M, Magic, Wizarding World, Wizards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-09 14:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4352273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Louis is given detention taking care of Hagrid's flobberworms, he doesn't expect to find a green-eyed Hufflepuff meditating with Louis' wormy charges.  Harry, Hagrid's student assistant, is by far the most eccentric Hufflepuff Louis has ever met.  But there's something about him that keeps Louis hanging around Hagrid's pumpkin patch.  With lots of laughter and a little bit of luck, Louis might just learn that love is the most powerful magic of all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lettuce Begin

**Author's Note:**

> When I write my obituary and leave it for my nine cats to find, I'm going to claim writing ridiculous One Direction/Harry Potter AUs as my proudest accomplishment..
> 
> This will have five chapters at a minimum, and should update every two weeks or so depending on my schedule! I hope you enjoy!

“Flobberworms.” Louis said slowly. “You want me to spend an hour a day taking care of flobberworms. For the next two months.”

Professor Longbottom sighed and rubbed his eyes. His voice was defeated as he said, “Don’t look at me like that, Louis. You dyed the skin of every Slytherin house student red and gold, and it won't come off for days! You're lucky I’m only giving you a month’s detention! Professor Slughorn wanted you to be in detention for the entire year!”

“Professor, it was harmless!” Louis exclaimed, his voice echoing in the small, cluttered office of Gryffindor's Head of House. “We both know that. So they'll look a little bit festive for a while. They deserved it! You saw what Macnair did to that third year, Robbie! Macnair’s a bully!”

“And so you decided to prank an entire house?” Professor Longbottom asked, his tone sharp. “Macnair was punished by the school for his behavior, and his actions have nothing to do with the majority of his house. When you judge a large group of people for the actions of one, you are lessening yourself. You are young, and so you don’t understand what it was like back during the war, but the misunderstandings and inter-house tensions turned relative strangers into enemies. That atmosphere of anger is what you are contributing to. Slytherin house is not your enemy!”

Louis took a step back, his eyes widening as he watched Professor Longbottom’s hands curl into fists. Louis didn’t really understand why the Professor was so angry. So Louis pranked the Slytherins, and they were brightly colored for a few days, so what? All the houses pranked each other…and sure, it wasn’t the first time Louis had pranked somebody, but the magical world had so many great pranks to attempt! It wasn’t like Louis was the worst troublemaker Hogwarts had ever seen. Legends like the Weasley Twins and the Marauders held that title, no matter how much Louis coveted it. Louis honestly thought Professor Longbottom was overreacting. But the teacher seemed like he was about to explode, so Louis didn’t push him.

“Ok, Sir. Flobberworms it is, then. But what do you even do for an hour with flobberworms? I thought you just give them some lettuce and that’s it, they’re fine. They aren’t exactly high maintenance.” Louis said. He had held a Flobberworm once, when Hagrid brought a few of them to Care of Magical Creatures class and passed them around as examples of the most basic and boring living creatures in the wizarding world. All Louis remembered about that day was that the flobberworms were slimy and that Liam had flipped out when Louis dropped one down the back of his shirt.

Professor Longbottom shrugged. “To be entirely honest, Louis, I have no idea. Hagrid said he would supervise your detentions, and so you'll do what he says. Perhaps you’ll even learn something.”

Louis laughed, rolling back on his heels. “I avoid learning as much as possible, Professor. Let's not get ahead of ourselves.”

Professor Longbottom sighed. Louis wondered idly if his hair had gotten grayer while Louis was standing there. “Unfortunately, I am well aware of your...unacademic tendencies. Now go on, out of my office. I have work to do, and I’m sure your henchmen are waiting to congratulate you on your successful misbehavior.”

“Yes, sir!” Louis said, and strode across the plush red carpet to the door. Just before he left the room, Professor Longbottom stopped him.

“Tomlinson!” He called out, looking sheepish. “I probably shouldn’t ask this during a disciplinary meeting, but how is our Quidditch team looking?”

Louis smiled wolfishly, his eyes glinting. “The team is playing great now, and it will improve. I’m going to captain this team to the Quidditch Cup or die trying,” he promised, his voice firm.

The ancient wooden door shut behind Louis with a bang, closing on Professor Longbottom’s weak mutters, “Try not to die. Or kill anyone. I’d get fired.”

 

* * *

 

 "Mom's going to kill you."

"Shut up, Lottie."  Louis muttered, glaring at his sister.  

"We're only two weeks into school, and you already have detention until December!"  Charlotte exclaimed, folding her arms and staring Louis down.  Louis sighed and continued walking down the corridor. 

"Late November, actually, Charlotte," Louis corrected.  "Don't go spreading misinformation."

Lottie tossed her long blonde hair dramatically.  "You are such a bad role model.  I don't know how I'm expected to grow up into functioning adult with a sibling like you."

"I'm your favorite brother."  Louis said confidently.

"You're my only brother."  Charlotte pointed out.  "You don't have much competition, brother dearest."

"I'm still your favorite."

"Perhaps."  Lottie said.  She smiled sweetly, batting her kohl-lined eyelids at Louis.  "But if you share the chocolate bar in your pocket with me, I'll like you a lot better."

"This chocolate?"  Louis asked, waving a messily wrapped bar of chocolate at her and then taking a large bite.  "Since you are only talking to me to mock me, I think I'll keep it for myself."

Lottie sighed.  "Fine, but-- Oh my god, look at that Slytherin!!"

Louis turned, and Lottie neatly snatched the chocolate bar out of his hand and skipped back a few steps.

"Hey!" Louis shouted, "What the hippogriff, Lottie?"

"You're my favorite brother, Lou!  Thanks for the chocolate!"  Lottie said cheerfully, backing away from Louis.

"Third Years these days!  Out of control!  Who taught you to behave like that?"  Louis exclaimed.

Lottie raised an eyebrow pointedly.

"Don't answer that."

 

* * *

 

 

The setting sun bathed the Gryffindor common room in golden light.  A few First Years played chess in the corner, their small faces screwed up in concentration as they battled.  A disheveled Sixth Year sleept on one of the puffy, plush red couches next to the fire while a small study group sprawled around the massive wooden table. It was a sleepy afternoon, and the crackle of the fire complemented the soft murmurs of happy students.

Suddenly the portrait hole opened with a bang, and the peace was shattered for the night. A group of dirty Quidditch players tumbled inside, dripping mud and kicking dirt onto the carpet as they fell into a pile blocking the doors.

“Keep moving!” The strident voice of Louis Tomlinson cried out, chivvying his teammates out of his way. “Bloody hell, is this the coordination of my Quidditch team? We’re doomed.”

The team shouted and laughed, ignoring the irritable glares of the studious sixth years. Cara, a beautiful chaser whose long legs and long brown hair were splattered with mud, stuck her tongue out at her Captain. She shouted, “You’re not one to talk, Tommo. I saw you wipe out on the way up here.”

“Lies!” Louis shouted, “I was pushed. Nialler is a traitor! It’s mutiny!”

Louis’ best friend and teammate, Niall, laughed brightly and shouted with a thick Irish accent, “If I don’t get food in my stomach soon, you’ll see real mutiny.”

Fifteen minutes later, Louis, Liam, and Niall were clean and eating furiously in the Great Hall. The sunset outside painted the enchanted ceiling with brilliant oranges and pinks, and the entire room seemed to glisten. The only person who seemed to notice was a curly haired Hufflepuff Louis spotted lying on his back on a bench, staring upwards. Louis shrugged at that and ignored him because, well, Hufflepuffs are weird. He shoveled some mashed potatoes and beef onto his plate and tossed a pea at Niall, who caught it in his open mouth.

“Ten points to Ireland!” Niall shouted and whooped, displaying his muggle braces proudly. Liam leaned forward seriously and asked Louis, “So what happened in your meeting with Longbottom? That was right before Quidditch, right?”

“Yeah. I have a month’s detention, taking care of Flobberworms. It’s going to be so boring, but it’s better than scrubbing pots.” Louis said. He loosened his Gryffindor tie until it was barely hanging on his neck, ignoring Liam’s look of disapproval at that blatant disregard of the uniform policy.

“Flobberworms are disgusting.” Liam said, wrinkling his nose.

Louis nodded solemnly. “Indeed they are. Which is why I already put a bunch in your bed.”

“You did?” Liam exclaimed, starting to stand up. “Arse!”

“No,” Louis admitted, shrugging. He rarely actually pranked Liam. Threatening to do so was entertainment enough, without actually breaking their strict codes of eternal brotherhood. “I haven’t had detention yet, have I? But maybe I will at a later date.”

“Don’t you dare,” Liam warned Louis, trying and failing to look frightening.

“I guess you better stay on my good side, then, Li.” Louis said with a shrug. He swallowed another bite of mashed potatoes, and then stood up.

“I’m off to slave away for my crimes, don’t miss me too much in my absence.”

“I won’t miss you at all.” Liam muttered mulishly as Niall cheerfully said goodbye.

Louis grabbed his bag and surveyed the hall one more time, his eyes lingering on the glittering red and gold bodies lining the Slytherin tables. Several of them shot glares in his direction. The Slytherin table lined with Gryffindor colors was truly one of the most beautiful things Louis had ever seen. He headed off to shovel flobberworm poop—or whatever it is they excrete—with a bounce in his step.

Louis made it to Hagrid’s hut with ten seconds to spare, knocking on the big wooden door. He heard Claw barking wildly from inside, but nobody answered. He knocked again louder.

“Come ‘round back, boy!” Hagrid shouted, his bellow sending birds flying from the pumpkin patch.

Louis picked his way around the cabin, stepping over piles of rocks and giving a waving devil’s snare a very wide birth.

When he made it all the way around, he gasped. “That is a lot of fucking flobberworms.”

Hagrid had built a massive roof, with canvas walls pulled back to allow the sunlight. Inside the shack were tubs filled to the brim with flobberworms wiggling around. The tubs were basically tables with walls, perfectly at waist height, giving Louis had a wonderful view of the wiggling little worms. Hagrid was bent over the nearest trough, sticking in lettuce. On him, the tables were knee height, and his long white beard drifted over the table. Louis could see a flobberworm trying to eat Hagrid’s beard. Hagrid turned to face Louis, and Louis noticed a flobberworm peeking out from the depths of Hagrid’s hair curiously.

“Hello, Louis, I heard you got into a bit of trouble.” Hagrid said cheerfully. “The flobberworms don’t care, though, do they? Glad you’re here to help.”

Louis grinned. The elderly groundskeeper was by far one of his favorite people at Hogwarts and the most lenient detention proctor. “Glad to be here. Although I wish I wasn’t being forced,” Louis said, “So what do you want me to do?”

Hagrid’s eyes lit up and he began to babble. “Feed them, mostly. They only eat greens, like salad greens. There’s a pile of lettuce over there for them.” He said before jumping into more detailed instructions and waxing poetic about how smart Flobberworms are. Louis zoned out a bit, slightly skeptical that flobberworms were the new dolphins, or whatever it was Hagrid was saying. Suddenly Hagrid clapped him on the shoulder, almost knocking Louis over with the force of his giant arm.

“Get to work then, boy, and if you’re lucky I’ll make some tea for us later on.”

Louis nodded, and Hagrid strode around the hut shouting, “Here, Claw, come to daddy!”

Louis turned back to the rickety flobberworm shack, and sighed. He had missed all of Hagrid’s instructions, so he stared for a second hopelessly. Eventually, he took a head of lettuce from the massive lettuce pile in the corner and began poking it at the flobberworms. They didn’t bite it, even wiggling away from Louis and his lettuce.

“Well that’s a bit insulting, mates,” Louis said, taken aback. “If you don’t want the lettuce I’m not going to force you.” He stared at his thousands of wiggling charges, unsure of what to do next.

“You’re doing it wrong,” a gravely voice informed him.

Louis jumped backwards and tripped over a bucket, landing on his back with a loud “Oof.”

“Oops.” The voice said, slow as molasses.“Sorry about that.”

Louis rolled over and located the voice. It belonged to a boy sitting on the ground beneath the second flobberworm trough. His legs were folded like a pretzel and his hands rested on his knees, the forefinger and thumb together like a statue of buddha. His closed eyes blinked open slowly, revealing brilliant green.

“Hi.” Louis said. He stared, and then looked away and coughed awkwardly. “What are you doing?”

“Meditating.” The boy said, his eyes widening as if it should be obvious.

“Right.” Louis said, nodding slowly. “And why are you meditating on a dirt floor underneath a tub of flobberworms?”

“They were agitated. I’m sharing my inner peace with them.” The boy said. He cocked his head questioningly, as though wondering where Louis had come from.

Louis laughed, shifting on the uncomfortable dirt floor. “Of course. I do that myself pretty often, always wondered where my fellow worm whisperers were.”

“Oh, I don’t need to whisper.” The boy said, his wide eyes blinking again. He shook his head to push back the loose curls covering his eyes. “My connection with the worms is nonverbal.”

Louis stared at him, unable to tell if he was joking or not. “It’s a muggle term.” Louis clarified. “Somebody who connects well with animals is a whisperer, like a dog whisperer or a horse whisperer…you know?”

“No, I don't.” The boy said. “What do they whisper to the dogs and the horses?”

“I don’t think they actually whisper anything, they just….Muggles can be weird sometimes, okay?” Louis said, shrugging helplessly.

“I guess.” The boy said. He stared at Louis intensely, his cheeks flushing slightly—Louis recorded that blush mentally—and then he closed his eyes again.

“Wait!” Louis exclaimed. “Don’t you dare go back to Nirvana or Shangri-La or wherever. You were going to help me feed the worms! I don’t know what to do with them.”

The boy’s eyes flew open again, and he smiled brightly. Louis noticed his dimples for the first time. Bloody hell, Louis thought, the flobberworm fanatic was really fit. Adorable fit, the type that made Louis want to hug and protect him. And also make out with him, and maybe blow him. Louis forced the image that flew into his head away, and jumped to his feet suddenly.

“Come on then," he said, "let’s get started.”

The boy unfolded his unfairly long legs and stood up slowly, moving to stand next to Louis.

“What’s your name then, noble friend of flobberworms?” Louis asked as he stared at the writhing tub of worms.

“Harry.” The boy said.

“I’m Louis, young Harold.” Louis responded.

“Harry, not Harold. I know who you are,” Harry said. “I mean…uh…” He stammered awkwardly. “You’re the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.  Everybody knows who you are.”

He was blushing again, Louis noticed. Louis smirked, edging closer to him. “Do you watch me play, then Harold? Cheer me on?” He asked.  Louis leaned in closer, caging Harry against the tub, and Harry’s breath hitched in his throat. Louis lowered his voice and asked, “How does my bum look on the broom?”

“Amazing," Harry muttered, swallowing hard.  "I mean…uh you’re amazing…At Quidditch. That’s probably why you’re captain…because....you know.” Harry rambled, his cheeks brilliantly red. “But I cheer for Hufflepuff. Because I’m a Hufflepuff and I love my house, and the team doesn’t get enough appreciation and—“

“I get the idea.” Louis said with a smirk, and Harry blushed even pinker.

Louis stepped backwards.  He heard Harry exhale heavily, and Louis' smirk grew.  He turned back to the tub. He reached out and picked up a worm, holding it in front of his eyes. Supposedly, flobberworms eat and poop out of both ends. Louis tried to imagine how that worked, but even holding one in his hands, he was perplexed. “Well Harold,” Louis said, “Are you going to teach me about these fearsome beasts?”

“You really want to learn?” Harry asked. Louis glanced at him. Harry’s hands were tucked behind his back, and he was biting his lip to hide a smile.

Louis nodded.

“Well then,” Harry exclaimed, dramatically flourishing massive handfuls of salad greens, “lettuce begin!”

“…”

“Get it?”


	2. Tea and Biscuits and the Green Bay Green Beans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what just happened, but it happened. Excuse any errors as I barely edited. I was too eager to post this and get it out of my head, sorry! Basically posting this because there is no hiatus at Hogwarts, and also because if you hadn't heard, Niall has the manflu. Which is a very serious disease. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not her majesty J.K. Rowling, and I have no connection to the loves of my life, One Direction, or any associates. All is fiction, yada yada.

"You're late." Harry said, his voice echoing around the tin roofed shack.

Louis frowned. He thought the shack was empty and he had gotten away with being five minutes late. He glanced around, searching for Harry. He looked behind the lettuce pile....no Harry. He bent over and searched under the tubs....no Harry.

"Up here." Harry said, and Louis looked up at the ceiling. The shack was held up by two thick rafters several yards apart. Harry was planking, his arms resting on one and his feet resting on another. Louis tried not to stare at the way Harry's defined biceps trembled slightly as he held his body aloft. He failed.

His face turned upwards, Louis asked, "What are you doing, Harold?"

"Exercising."

"I noticed. Why are you exercising ten feet off the ground?"

"Why not?"

"...I really don't understand your mind, young Harold." Louis said, shaking his head. He glanced upwards once more at Harry, whose face was beginning to turn red with effort.  Smiling fondly, he added, "Be careful, will you? Cleaning up dead Harry is not something I consider part of my detention duties."

Louis checked the buckets underneath the flobberworm tubs.  Enough mucus had drained out of the tubs to fill the buckets almost to the top.  He quickly replaced the buckets with clean ones, and poured the mucus into a barrel.  

"I know you said that this mucus is useful for potions, but seriously how many potions does Hagrid intend to make?  There is enough mucus to drown in, here."  Louis said.

Harry, his voice choked from his position exercising, said, "That sounds like a terrible way to die."

Louis nodded, and said seriously, "RIP The Great Harold of Cheshire, vanquished by green goo.  He will be missed."

"How do you know where I live?"

"You told me...?"  Louis responded, looking at Harry oddly.  In the past four days, Louis had learned a lot about Harry.  His favorite fruit is bananas, he's a pureblood, his favorite singer is the muggle Stevie Nicks, he is absolutely atrocious at knock-knock jokes, he doesn't believe in buttoning his uniform shirt, and he once spent a week living with unicorns in the forest.  He is also a flirt; Louis is pretty sure that if he tried to hang out with unicorns these days, they would pronounce him decidedly not innocent and leave him in the dust.  Not that Louis had confirmed that... it was hard enough concentrating on his duties while the curly-haired charmer putters around knitting hats for his favorite flobberworm, Eunice, without getting confirmation of his extra-curricular activities.

"Are you planning on getting down from there anytime soon?"  Louis asked Harry as he began scrubbing out an empty tub.  "I'm pretty sure the school is liable if you fall.  I think somebody might want to stop you and your pursuit of altitude."  

Harry's voice floated down from the rafters, "Nobody can drag me down!"

 

* * *

 

 

By the end of detention, Louis had scrubbed dried flobberworm mucus off of three large tubs and heard a very long, rambling story about Harry's childhood friendship with a quite sassy local duck, and although it hadn't been as bad as it could have been, he was quite relieved when he finally made it back to the Gryffindor common room.  He collapsed onto a comfy fireside couch next to Liam with a loud, exhausted sigh.  

Liam glanced up from his book at Louis, and crinkled his nose dramatically.  "You should really take a shower.  You're stinking up the room."

Louis took a deep, relaxing breath and burst out coughing.  His eyes widened, and he said, "I think you're wearing enough cologne for the both of us, Liam."

"Do you think I'm wearing too much?"  Liam said, concerned.  "I'm supposed to study with Sophia Smith in an hour. I wanted to make sure I didn't smell like Quidditch!"

"Didn't you take a shower after practice?  You had two hours!" 

"I did!  I took two!"  

"Then why do you need half a bottle of cologne?  You smell like an apothecary."

"I just wanted to make sure I didn't stink for Sophia!"

"Well, you might give her an allergic reaction instead, but I suppose you win some and you lose some."  Louis responded, smirking.

Liam's puppy face was horrified.  "Is she allergic to cologne?"

"Well, I think we're going to find out, won't we?"  Louis responded with a shrug.  He didn't even try to pretend that he didn't find Liam's obsession with the beautiful seventh year funny.  She barely knew Liam existed when they weren't working on their Ancient Runes project together.  Louis was pretty sure Liam's new dedication to academics was entirely unrelated to N.E.W.T.S.

Louis laughed as Liam rushed up towards the dorm to frantically rub off some of the cologne.  

Niall chuckled, looking up for the first time from the stool he was sitting on while he played around on his guitar.  "I don't think Sophia's allergic to cologne, mate.  I think you just gave him an aneurysm."

Louis shrugged.  "I think anybody could be allergic to cologne when it surrounds them like a gas cloud."

"I suppose.  I didn't mind it, though.  It smelled a bit christmasy.  Reminded me of turkey dinners."

Louis stared at Niall. "I don't know what you are on, but he didn't smell a bit like a turkey."

Niall shrugged, his blue eyes bright.  "Maybe it was all in my head.  I had a nap, and I think I started dreaming of the Christmas feast.  The mashed potatoes were amazing, and there were just heaps of meat!  And muffins!  I'm not sure why there were muffins at the Christmas feast, but I wasn't going to complain!  It sucked to wake up.  I just wanted to keep eating forever."

Louis nodded, unsurprised.  Niall seemed to have a very long food inspired dream every time his head hit the pillow, and he described every single one in detail the minute he woke up.  

Niall began strumming gently on his guitar again, singing softly, "Louis smells like a worm/he probably will long-term/and maybe he'll get a perm..."

"You think I should get a perm, Nialler?"  

"Nope."  Niall said, popping the p.  He put his guitar aside.  "Seriously, mate, how's detention?  Is it just you and Hagrid?"

"No, there's this weird Hufflepuff a year below who volunteers there.  He's always hanging around.  He's sometimes more distracting than helpful, but..."

"Distracting?"  Niall said, smiling.  "How so?"

"He's just weird.  He does weird things.  I turned around once and in under ten seconds he had whipped out a canvas and paints and was painting a full on portrait of this flobberworm, Eunice, in a suit."

"Eunice was in a suit?"

"Only in the painting. Harry didn't sew a minuscule worm suit."  Louis said, and added, "Don't suggest that.  I think he would."

"You think he's fit."  Niall said, strumming  _Can You Feel the Love_ from The Lion King absentmindedly. Louis really regretted showing him and Liam Disney last summer.

"I think whose fit? Eunice?  Yeah, mate, he's practically James Dean."

"No, this Hufflepuff.  Harold.  You're using your 'I'm going to make fun of him so I don't bang him' voice."

Louis could feel himself blushing, so he glared with all his might.  Unfortunately, Niall didn't quail the way Louis intended in the face of Louis' Glare of Destruction.  Niall was frustrating like that.  "He's not fit.  Just because he has dimples and green eyes and long legs and curly hair I really want to tug doesn't mean I want to shag him."

Niall looked at Louis curiously, and suddenly beamed.  "Yeah, I think you're right!"  Niall exclaimed. 

"Of course I'm right!"

"You don't want to bang him--"

"Yeah!"

"--you want to date him!"

"What?"

"You want to date him really hard, with flowers and wine and shit!  I haven't seen you like this in... ever!"  Niall exclaimed, practically bouncing in excitement.  "Who is this guy?"

"Niall!"  Louis exclaimed, "I barely know him!  I met him four days ago!"

"So?"  Niall asked, his cornflower blue eyes calm.  "Time is human construct."

Louis paused.  Sometimes Niall took the buddha-leprechaun thing in very confusing directions.  Finally, he shrugged.  "I barely know him, and that's the way it will stay.  He's odd.  And he's at least a year below us.  And he's a Hufflepuff."

Niall shrugged, accepting Louis' words neutrally.  "Whatever you say, Lou."

"I have to go take a shower, all this worm mucus is covering me."  Louis said, jumping off the couch.  Niall nodded, and picked up his guitar again, beginning to strum as Louis exited the common room.  

A haunting acoustic cover of  _Can You Feel the Love Tonight_ followed Louis as he escaped into the lonely night.

 

* * *

 

 By the time Louis reached The Worm Shack, he just wanted to curl up into a ball and die.  Or hit something.  Either would do.

The day had started off fine.  Louis had gotten up on time, he had actually bothered to tie his tie, he had all of his homework ready for class, and things were looking good.  Unusually good.  And then, as always, things went to utter hippogriff shit.  

First, a T in Transfiguration.  Yup.  A troll.  Professor Slipstrich slapped his graded test face down on the desk with a muttered "better study up, Tomlinson," and then continued on, leaving Louis to stare at the large, sharp T miserably.  At least Liam had gotten Poor, so Louis wasn't alone in the world of failing students.  Louis wasn't dumb or anything, he swore.  His mind just didn't work in the sharp, organized way transfiguration demanded.  He had many other talents, and if Gryffindor continued to do well, a possible Quidditch career, and he knew that if all else failed he could enter the muggle world and make use of his greatest asset (his ass) Kardashian-style.  Still, a T was not really the grade he was going for.

"I'm going to fail this class, Li."  He moaned, banging his head into his desk as Liam pouted next to him.  "I will never graduate Hogwarts.  I will be stuck here for the rest of my life, rotting.  I will become a ghost and I will haunt people and warn them against every taking Transfiguration.  And I will write dirty words on the board with my ghostly powers and everybody will think it was Professor Slipstrich."  He paused.  That actually didn't seem like that bad of an idea, now that he thought of it.  He'd heard ghosts threw wild Death-Day parties, and as long as he could attend some parties and hang with friends, he was happy.  "Can you have a career in death?  Can I put 'ghost' on those career planning handouts we keep being assigned?"

"I don't think they have any pamphlets about that though."  Liam said, his eyebrows furrowed.  "I'm pretty sure all the possible jobs have at least one pamphlet."

"I suppose you're right.  I'll just have to ask Nearly Headless Nick how he got the job."

"I think he just sort of died."

"Cracking idea, Liam!  I suppose I'll just have to start there."

Louis' career planning was cut off by the bell, and he stuffed his things in his bag to go.  Liam, who exited the classroom ahead of him, visibly tensed.  Louis groaned when he followed Liam and saw the shifting red and gold bodies surrounding the door.  Very angry red and gold bodies, to be precise.  

"Tomlinson."  Augustus Nott said, stepping forward and looking down at Louis.  "How's the air down there?" 

"Not bad, lads, not bad."  Louis said calmly, hiding the annoyance he felt from Nott's rather uninspired dig at his height.  "Smelled a bit better a minute ago, but I can still mostly breathe." 

Louis heard a mumbled "won't be breathing when we smash his nose in" coming from Elliot Crow, but he kept his eyes on the more dangerous leader, Nott.  

Normally, Nott would be in a rage, particularly since it was the first time they had talked since Louis' prank.  Which was still painting his body a lovely shade of maroon.  Today though, he was just smiling.  Louis didn't like it.  He opened his mouth, his tone biting as he said, "Nothing to say, Nott?"

Nott smiled again.  "I have plenty.  Particularly, I wanted to say good luck."

"What?"

"Good luck finding another chaser for the game next week."  Nott said, his smile growing at Louis' confusion.  "Oh, didn't you hear?"

"What the hell are you--"

"Class is starting, Tomlinson."  Nott said, sweeping into the classroom with an ominous chuckle.  "See you on the pitch."

Louis stared after him, his mind racing, as Liam dragged him to History of Magic.  On the way, they were stopped by Rita Ora, one of Cara's sixth year friends.  "Did you hear about Cara, Louis?"

"No," Louis said, "Is everything okay?"

Rita winced.  "She was skateboarding down the staircase, and fell.  She's fine, mostly.  But she did sort of smash up her arm and hand."

"Can she play?"  Louis asked.

Rita frowned.  "That's a bit cold, Louis."

"You just said she was mostly fine!"  Louis protested.  "I'm proper concerned.  But can she play?"  They needed Cara.  Cara had the best aim of anybody on the team, after Louis.  And Louis spent so much time setting up all the plays and captaining that she ended up scoring most of the shots.

Rita shrugged.  "Probably not.  Pomfrey's been fixing her, but they weren't basic breaks.  Her bones pretty much shattered, so they'll be delicate for at least a week.  Pomfrey said she's not going to clear her for the game."

Louis sat down on the cold, hard stone of the hallway.  

"Tell her I hope she feels better, and I'll visit her soon as I'm able," Louis said distractedly, barely responding to Rita's less-than-cheerful goodbye.  His mind was racing, thinking about strategies and trying to remember who the reserve chaser was.  A third year, he remembered.  One who had potential, who he had been planning to spend the year training to be a good replacement for next year.  But he wasn't ready to play yet!

Liam dragged Louis to and fro for the rest of the day, forcing him to attend classes, muttering about how Louis already had months of detention.  Louis ignored him and the rest of the world, trying to force away the sick feeling in his stomach.  This was  _the_ game, the opener, the first against Slytherin.  How they did would define the rest of the season; a terrible start could screw them up so badly they could never come back.  It had happened before. 

And Louis needed to make it to the final.  Nobody ever got recruited if they couldn't even make it to the final, and he sure as hell wasn't getting a job based on academics.  All of the professional teams' scouts came to the final.  Louis needed to make it to the final.  Gryffindor needed to make it to the final.  Louis was so so so bloody screwed.  

By the time Louis made it to detention, he had concentrated all of his panic into anger.  Anger at Cara, for being dumb enough to skateboard down the staircases the week before a game (she could skateboard off the North Tower for all he cared as long as it wasn't  _right before a game..._ okay, that wasn't true, but still she knew it was a game week!) and anger at Liam for being stodgy and not letting him skip class on what was probably one of the worst days of his life and anger at the Slytherins for taking advantage of a true tragedy (not that he wouldn't do the same) and anger at Professor Longbottom for forcing him to shovel worm shit instead of training little third year Alex Wood every moment of the week to get him ready for the game, and anger at every fucking person in the world who was ruining his seventh year.  

And, he added mentally as he ducked under the tin roof of the worm hut, anger at annoying Hufflepuff fifth years for smiling and whistling like it was sunny out and the birds were chirping, instead of pouring rain and cold and utterly miserable and just generally a shit day.

"Hi, Louis!"  Harry exclaimed.  He was sitting on a barrel in the corner, petting Eunice the worm gently.  "How was your day?  Also, you're late again."  He added with a smile.  "Not sure how many times I can lie to Hagrid for you."

Louis glared at him.  Harry shrunk back a little, and Louis ignored the unexpected guilt he felt.  "I'm late, am I?  Going to run and tell Hagrid on me, get me another week's detentions?  I wouldn't do that if I were you, I'll be in your way a week longer."

Harry frowned, clearly taken aback, before a bit of anger stole over his face.  "What the fuck is your problem?"

"What is my problem?" Louis repeated, kicking the table leg.  "My problem is that I'm sitting here in a hut that smells like weird worm mucus with a guy who probably also smells like worm mucus waiting to get covered in worm mucus as well while my most important Chaser is in the hospital wing because she's a fucking idiot and we're going to lose the match by a couple hundred points and I won't make it to the final and so the scouts won't see me and I got a T in Transfiguration today and I'm going to fucking fail my NEWTS so I can't get any job other than Quidditch, so I'll probably be fucking hired to shovel worm mucus for the rest of my miserable life, and Liam keeps following me like a puppy because the Slytherins keep leaving threatening notes in my book bags and if they catch me alone they'll apparently decapitate me so I'm never fucking alone and my mom is pregnant with more twins and if I don't get signed to a team next year we won't be able to pay for my littlest sisters' Hogwarts fees and so if I lose this game next week my entire life and my family is fucked and you are fucking whistling and its really fucking annoying!"  

Louis looked at Harry, who was staring, his eyes wide and his mouth open.  Louis' heart was racing, and with the shouting done he just sort of gave up, sliding down the wall till he was sitting on the dirt floor.  He leaned his head against his knees and tried to breathe.  

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to cry; he wouldn't cry.  He never, ever cried, no matter what shit happened.  He heard a rustling next to him; Harry settling onto the floor.  Louis lifted his head out of his arms, surprised.  He had thought Harry had left; he had every reason too.

"I thought you left."  Louis said slowly.

"Nah."  Harry said.  "I have some Bertie Botts."

He offered Louis the box, and Louis took one.  He considered it part of his Gryffindor pride to always accept a Bertie Botts, just to prove he wasn't scared.  

"Turnip."  He said, after chewing.

"I got grass."  Harry said. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then Harry said calmly, "I'm sorry you're having a shit day.  Do you want a cup of tea?  I promise I won't whistle."

"Yeah, I'd love one.  Not sure how you plan on making it, though." Louis said, gesturing at the hut which was free of both kettle and fire.  "And you're actually pretty good at whistling.  I don't mind it."  

It was the closest thing to an apology Louis could bring himself to make, and Harry smiled.  "I know I am.  I practiced.  And we can make one in Hagrid's hut.  He won't mind."

"Where is Hagrid, anyways?" Louis asked.  "He's never here."  

"The thestral herd is having some problems.  He's been looking after them."  Harry said.  He stood up, and offered Louis a hand.

Louis stared at Harry's hand for a second, large with long fingers covered in silver rings.  And warm, he realized, when he placed his hand in Harry's grasp.  Harry pulled Louis up easily, holding Louis' hand a second longer than normal, before he turned and lead the way into the hut.  

Harry lit the fire under the kettle as Louis settled into Hagrid's massive, fluffy purple couch.  It was surprisingly comfortable, enveloping Louis, and he pulled a woolen blanket over himself to get even warmer.  He closed his eyes for a minute, and when he opened them, Harry looked away suddenly, his cheeks turning pink. 

"Yorkshire or Earl Grey?" Harry asked, fussing with the teas.  

Louis gasped.  "You answer that.  It could define our friendship how you respond."

Harry paused, chewing his lip thoughtfully.  "Yorkshire?"

"Good lad.  I guess I can associate with you."

"Sugar?"

"Absolutely not!  Are you trying to poison me?  Destroy the gods' ambrosia?  Sugar?!?"

Harry laughed, bringing Louis a steaming cup just the way he like it.  Louis took a sip slowly, savoring it, and then nodded. "You'll do, I suppose."

Harry looked at Louis, frowning slightly, as if trying to figure out how best to talk to him.  Eventually, he said "Want to hear a story about how I got my first tattoo?"

"What tattoo?"

"It's a Green Bay Packers logo."

"What's a Greenland packer?"

"An American football team."

"What's football?"

"Will you just let me tell the story?"  Harry said, exasperated.  

"Will you speak English?"

"Muggle English is still English."

"Fine, tell your story if you must, Harold."

Louis settled further into the couch, draining his tea and warming up in the fire.  Harry's warm, slow voice washed over him, and for the first time all day he felt relaxed.  His eyes drifted shut as Harry murmured about getting lost in Milwaukee with his sister and finding a llama farmer with a football obsession.  Or something like that.  Maybe it wasn't llamas.

When Louis woke up, Harry was standing over him, saying his name gently.  

"What?"  Louis asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.  "Did I fall asleep?  Wha times'it?"

"Eight.  Your detention's over, Lou."  Harry said. He seemed kind of embarrassed when the nickname slipped out, and Louis couldn't contain the fond.  Then what Harry actually said sunk in. 

"Shit, I didn't do anything for detention yet!  I have to go clean the tubs!"  Louis said, stuffing his feet in his shoes rapidly.

"Don't worry about it."  Harry said, shrugging.  "I did it while you were sleeping."

Louis paused, staring at Harry.  "Really?"  It wasn't easy work at all.  It had to have taken Harry at least an hour and a half in the rain, while Louis slept in a warm hut with the tea Harry made him cooling on the coffee table.  After Louis had been a jerk to him, too.  

Harry looked away bashfully.  "You didn't seem that interested in my story."

"I'm sorry, mate, I am interested, I swear."  Louis said.  "Llamas. Milwaukee.  Green beans.  I remember."

Harry giggled.  "Yeah, close enough."

"Sorry I conked out on you, though, mate."  Louis said seriously.  The firelight washed over Harry's face, shadows pooling in his cheekbones and glinting off his green eyes.  He really was beautiful, Louis thought, before forcing the thought away.

Harry grinned.  "Don't wormy-- sorry, worry-- about it.

"Are you kidding me?" 

Harry just laughed again.  "You better go.  Your friends are probably wondering where you are right now."

Louis smiled.  "Hanging out with my other, better friend, aren't I?"

Harry's smile lit up, a thousand megawatts of brightness.

"Are we friends then?"  Harry asked hesitantly.

"You made me tea.  Of course we are."  Louis said, clapping Harry on the shoulder and then jumping out the door and down Hagrid's steps.  "Bye Harold!"

Harry waved in response, his long body a dark silhouette in the light of the fire.  

When Louis made it back to the tower he fell into his usual seat with a smile.

"Why aren't you miserable right now?"  Liam asked tactlessly.  "I thought you were about to throw yourself off the tower when you left for detention."

Niall grinned, eating a biscuit that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.  "His hot hufflepuff man-child probably gave him some loving."

"Who?"  Liam asked, glancing between the two.

"Nobody.  Niall's being an arse."  Louis said.

Niall smirked, and then bent over coughing.  When he could breathe again, he said, "Don't be mean to me.  I've got the manflu."

"Is that different from the normal flu?"  Louis asked skeptically.  "And have you had Pepper-Up?"

"Its manlier than the normal flu."  Niall said, as if it should be obvious.  "Like I'm manlier than the normal man."

Liam looked up, rolling his eyes.  "He's had Pepper Up.  I took him to Pomfrey half-an-hour ago.  She gave him a whole bottle."

"I don't need it."  Niall said confidently.  "I'm too manly for medicine.  I'm just wearing some manly warm clothing and drinking some manly water.  I'll be fine."

Louis shrugged.  "Fine.  But keep your man germs away from me."

Niall shrugged.  "Too late.  I already ate two of your biscuits."

"What biscuits?"

"The ones in your bag?"  Niall responded.  He tossed a small packet wrapped in parchment in Louis' lap.  He opened it to find three cookies and lots of crumbs, along with a little note.

_Hi Louis,_

_I baked a batch of biscuits this afternoon, and it seems like you need some!  I hope tomorrow is a better day._

_-H_

_p.s.  They contain nuts, so I hope you aren't allergic!  If you are, go straight to Mdme._ _Pomfrey!  I would feel really bad if you died.  Eunice would too._

 

Louis stared at the note, and then the biscuits, and then the note again.  He had almost girly handwriting, and Louis hated himself for how fond he felt.  He realized he was smiling, and forced his mouth into a frown.

"Control the fond, Tomlinson."  Niall advised.  "But I accept this union.  Your Puff is a great baker."

"There is no union!"

"He gave you biscuits."

"Kidnappers give children sweets before they kill them."  Louis pointed out.

"You think he's a murderer?"  Liam asked, leaning forward and frowning concernedly. "Should I come with you to detention next time?"

"No!"

"They can't fuck while you're there, Li.  Don't even try."  Niall advised.

"We aren't fucking!"

"Then why did he give you cookies?"

"Because he's an absurdly nice person with a massive Hufflepuff heart."  Louis exclaimed.

Niall grinned.  "I knew you love him."

"That's not what I meant!"  Louis protested.

"I'm a quarter leprechaun, Louis."  Niall said peacefully, snatching another of the cookies.  "We know things you humans can't.  Like love."

"You make shoes!"

"We do make shoes."  Niall said, nodding his head.  "And we make lots of hot, hot love." 

"I need new friends."

"No,"  Niall said.  "You need to find your Hufflepuff lover and let loose your inner animal."

"I'm leaving."  

"You can run now if you want, but I know where you're going!"  Niall shouted.  "For a cold shower, you dirty boy."

Louis groaned as he headed to his dorm for a nap.  He looked at the note still clenched in his hand and thought of Harry, though of the weird football tattoo he had talked about.  Louis hadn't seen any tattoos when Harry was wearing a t-shirt, so they had to be underneath. He imagined Harry, tattoos tracing his body.  

He decided against the nap.  Niall was right.  What he really needed was a shower.  A very very cold shower.

And he needed to get Harry and Harry's dimples out of his head.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please review, I will always love you!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! comment with your thoughts or throw rotten lettuce at me, your choice!


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